FicWad

This poem reminds me of the hippies, LOL. This is actually a surprisingly happy poem for me. I wrote this a LONG time ago.

Watching life leave hopeless eyes can never be easy. A story told, in verse, through the eyes of death.

If has always been a word that has brought on a frenzy of negative thoughts. Maybe just because I'm an active pessimist, but I also think the word just draws me into a deeper pit of dispair, what, ...

During this poem, I wasn't struggling so bad with self-image as it seems. I also know that in many of my poems, I may sound kinda...suicidal. Well...I was just letting my feelings out on paper.

This is another one of my early ones, when I was kinda screwed up, still. And I was just writing down the first thing that popped into my head. That was my strategy. Believe me, that changed.

Suicide. Selfish and consuming. I fell in love with the thought of it.

I sometimes think that love is an undiagnosed form of cancer. It kills slowly and painfully, and it chews at your insides. The cure for cancer would be fantastic, but lets find a cure for broken he...

Finally realizing that I'm drowning myself. Ever felt trapped inside? Like all the walls are closing in on you? Welcome to my reality.

Angst, angst, angst, angst....Angst!!!!!!!

A twisted sort of poem. Interpret it as you wish.

Oooh....a ship of broken dreams. Sounds like angst to me!

Trying to stop hurting myself. Never easy, and never completely ezplainable.

A poem about prejudice and how society is controlled by stereotype and expectations too high for any human being to ever satiate.

Okay, I'm sure love is just fine and dandy, or whatever, but really?! Where's the fun in a happy love poem?

Okay...decided to give happy a try. Think rainbows and puppies. Or a starry night sky.

Hmmm...instead of a DUI...an LUI. Interesting concept. And endless night of one-night-stands can lead to a messed up perspective on love.

This is something very important to me. I'll explain in the memo.

I can never seem to fail to return to depressing poems about twisted love. But its so very intriguing.

Struggling with self-image is isolating and frightening. Sometimes you just need an escape.

Sigh...relapses are never fun, are they? Writing poetry about said relapse though....is actually quite soothing.

Help...

I return to my old style of vent-poetry for a moment to let off some steam. Wrote this during math class, so it' sloppy and rushed, but it calmed me down for a little while.